


Kylo Ren

by Eskayrobot, Poaxath



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, AngryDaddy!Kylo, Assassins & Hitmen, Ben Solo so sad, Blood and Gore, Brokenhearted Ben Solo, Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gunshot Wounds, I'll say it again THE DOG DIES, John Wick au no one asked for, Loss, Lots of feels man, Major character death - Freeform, Murder Daddy Kylo, Organized Crime, Pining, Revenge is best served cold, Violence, the dog dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-10-18 22:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17589422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eskayrobot/pseuds/Eskayrobot, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Poaxath/pseuds/Poaxath
Summary: After the sudden death of his wife, ex-assassin Ben Solo is struggling to come to terms with his new, lonely life. When the son of his former associate breaks into his house and destroys his world even further, Ben Solo dons his old persona, Kylo Ren, and decides some revenge is in order.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No one really asked for this story, and we have far too many as it is, but I was watching John Wick and I was just like "omg, this is sooooooooo angry daddy Kylo'. So here ya go.

 

* * *

 

     He was numb, watching the casket get lowered into the ground, heavy droplets of rain splashing down onto the sleek black wood. He’d chosen a bed of red roses to decorate it, along with a few peonies and some sunflowers. Idly, he knew the colors may clash, that pink and crimson didn't necessarily go together with gold, but they'd been her favorites. She didn't have any family aside from his own there to mourn her, just a few friends she'd stayed in touch with from her time in the foster care system.

     He didn’t bother with an umbrella, even though Finn and Poe had offered him theirs numerous times. They seemed to understand that it didn’t matter if the rain hit him or not, that it didn’t matter if he was drenched to the bone, his nice, tailored black suit either completely destroyed or near to it. She was gone. So nothing truly mattered anymore.

     His mother, Leia, spoke quietly as she stood beside her son. “She was the best thing I could have ever wanted for you. I couldn't have dreamt a better daughter-in-law, and trust me, I dreamt it a lot.”

     Shaking her head softly, her wearied face drawn in intense sadness, she gave a sad sigh. “Let me know if you need me, Ben. I understand what you're going through.”

     After she'd lost Han...anyway, she knew now wasn't one of those times when she needed to be pushy. He needed to grieve and grieve his own way. She gently tugged him down for a kiss on the cheek before moving to her car, ready to get home with a bottle of wine and mourn the young woman she loved so dearly.

     “She was amazing,” Poe commented from beside Ben, his eyes on the coffin, as well. He’d even kept his stubble, knowing that as much as Rey had barbed him for it, she’d secretly liked it.

     Ben didn’t reply to him, either, watching the scene with a sense of detachment. He couldn’t tell if his fingers had gone numb from the cold rain, or maybe he genuinely just couldn’t feel anything.

     She’d been the first person he’d _really_ cared for. The only one, really, aside from his mother. And now she was gone. A brain aneurysm, the medical examiner had said. It wasn’t anyone’s fault; no one could have caught it outside of weekly brain scans.

     It had just ruptured one day while she’d been making her rounds at the hospital, the level of stress coursing through her triggering it.

     At least it had been fast. Painless, the doctors had said.

     That was some small consolation.

     “Hey, you wanna grab a bite to eat?” Poe asked, one hand hidden deep in his pocket while the other clasped his opened umbrella over his shoulder. “I hear Steak n Shake is open twenty-four hours—get you a burger or something.”

     “I’m fine,” Ben said, his voice low.

     “Ben…” Poe sighed, pulling the hand from his pocket to rest on the taller man’s shoulder. “You gotta eat something. You know she wouldn’t want you to mourn her like this. You gotta take care of yourself—for her.”

     That made Ben tilt his head slightly at the man beside him, his face passive.

     She’d been the love of his life, the reason why he’d done what he had. Why he’d gotten out. He’d been given an impossible task, and yet somehow, he’d done it—all for her. And now she was gone. Everything he’d worked to achieve didn’t matter now that his wife was _gone._

     “I’m going to go home, Poe,” Ben said, dark eyes sliding towards the hand on his shoulder.

     Poe had the good sense to drop it away, nodding to himself.

     “All right, well. Finn and I are going to the buffet, if you change your mind. I guess it’s tradition or something after a funeral—people seem to go eat their pain away,” he said, watching as the workers began to shovel the dirt (mud, really, with the amount of rain coming down) into the hole.

     There were other people here, of course; coworkers, really. People who were nosy, who didn’t really know her, and some who were there just out of politeness, because everyone at least _liked_ Rey.

     She’d been a literal ray of sunshine, her smile brighter than any star Ben had ever seen in the night sky.

     It had only been a few days since the accident, just enough time for the morgue to embalm her and get her makeup nicely enough for it to be passable that she was sleeping, even though everyone here knew the truth. She wasn’t just sleeping—her heart wasn’t beating, she wasn’t dreaming of their plans for the future, of starting that family they’d been talking about for years. The _whole_ reason why he’d gotten out of the business in the first place—gone.  

     “Ben, hey,” Rose called, pushing to the front of the mourners. She knew she could never reach high enough to shield him with her umbrella, so she just tipped hers back to look up at him. “Can I maybe stop by later?”

     Looking down at the short woman in front of him, a cute little thing no taller than five feet of Asian descent, Ben stared for a long moment. Rose was Rey’s best friend, and chances were that, while he didn’t really want to see anyone else for a long time, he knew she was probably hurting too.

     “Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he replied almost absently, eyes drifting back to watch the men shovel more dirt onto Rey’s casket. Each thud of the earth hitting it rang in his ears, echoing with finality. “What time?” he asked without looking at her.

     “Whatever works best for you, Ben,” she replied softly. She looked down at the casket, swallowing past the heavy lump in her throat. “I’m _so_ sorry, Ben. You never think the best person you know is just going to—to—”

     Clenching his jaw, he nodded curtly, understanding what she had been about to say without her actually even saying it. It was a funeral; only one thing was on everyone’s minds—death.

     “Thanks, Rose,” he replied solemnly, clinging to that numbness while he could. He knew tonight was going to be bad, that he was going to return to their house in the secluded end of their neighborhood near the woods, that he was going to lie in bed for hours and either smell her on her pillows, or that he was going to go into the kitchen and not see her there by the coffee maker in the morning.

     “I'll be by by five, kay?” she said, doing her best to power through. “It won't be long, I promise. I don't want to bother you on your...time.”

     “Sure. Five,” he repeated, nodding once. “Thanks for coming.”

     The rain had soaked his hair through by now, wet tendrils hanging down in his eyes and plastered to his forehead. He was fairly sure he was _supposed_ to be cold, but he couldn’t feel it.

     “It was beautiful,” Rose nodded. Unable to handle saying more, she let her tears loose and went crying back to her car, knowing she needed to get her things together to do what Rey had asked. She couldn't disrespect Rey’s final wishes, that's not what best friends did.

     Finn had come up to give him a pat on the shoulder as he’d left, Poe following along with him with one final offer of food. When it was politely declined, and Ben was standing alone with the funeral workers, he stared down at the flowers that were peeking out from under the growing piles of dirt.

     Ben stood there until the last of the guests had filed away, returning to their respective cars, as well, to get out of the water coming down from the sky.

     Seeing someone drifting closer out of the corner of his eye, he turned his head, eyebrows lifting just slightly when he realized just who it was.

     “It’s been a while,” greeted the older man. “My condolences. How you holding up?”

     Galen was dressed as everyone else, wearing all black, his umbrella shielding him. He looked a bit older than the last time Ben had seen him—it had been about five years, after all. He supposed everyone had added a few lines here and there in that time span.

     “I keep asking why her,” Ben replied, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking.

     A look of sympathy crossed Galen’s face as he said, “There’s no rhyme or reason to this life. It’s days like today, scattered among the rest. Don’t blame yourself.”

     Ben frowned slightly, tilting his head as he asked, “What are you really doing here, Galen?”

     “Just…” Galen replied, his face seeming to convey that there was something more. “Checking up on an old friend.”

     They stared at each other for a long moment, both understanding that there was more to this meeting than to just offering sympathies. They’d shared a bond once before, something deeper than most men in the profession did.

     “Goodbye, Ben,” he added, holding his hand out.

     Shaking it, Ben nodded, replied with much of the same, and watched as Galen turned to make his way back towards the rest of the cars.

     He watched him go before turning back to the coffin, heaving a heavy sigh.

     The rain seemed to collect on the petals, dripping downward to fall, like they themselves were crying at the loss of someone so bright.

     “It’s only been a few days, and I miss you so much, baby,” he whispered. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this without you. _What_ am I going to do without you?”

     He was met with silence, for the dead don’t answer.

     “I love you now, more than ever, and I hope that wherever you’re at, you’re at peace. I can only ask that when I go, it will be to be with you.”

     Understanding that the workers had paused now, waiting for him to go, as well, he looked up at the spot above the hole, void of a headstone until it was ready. He’d have the perfect one made for her, one that suited her, one that she would love.

     Turning, he walked back through the grass to his car parked along the little road that wound through the cemetery, his feet squelching in the grass.

     It was only when he was alone in the car, and her favorite song came up on the radio, that he allowed himself to cry.

 

* * *

 

     When he’d gotten back to their house, his eyes red and puffy, his hands shaking as feeling finally began to return to them, he’d taken a hot shower, knowing she wouldn’t want him sick. Afterwards, he’d dressed in a warm, comfortable pair of flannel pajama pants, a white T-shirt, and set about mindlessly cleaning the kitchen. It was hardly needed, as everything in the house was always kept pristine.

     It was sleek and modern, hints of his taste for black, along with her accents of light blue, and her love of natural light. He’d had the place built for her, with one wall made up of nothing but large window panes, stretching from floor to ceiling.

     He scrubbed the countertops, making sure that every little piece of dust had been wiped clean. He was naturally meticulous, paying attention to every single detail, and while he knew the dust wasn’t really there, imagining it was was enough to keep him sane for a bit longer.

     Time passed, with him moving from the kitchen to the living room, dusting this, straightening that. He must have fixed the pillows on the sofa a hundred times already when he heard the doorbell.

     Time had gotten away from him, it had seemed. Moving over to the door, he pulled it open, seeing Rose standing there, as promised.

     It was still raining outside, and he stepped away from the door to usher her in.

     “Hey,” was all he could seem to muster.

     “Hi,” she replied. She looked down and gave a gentle tug on the leash in her hand. “C'mon, Sunny. Time to meet your daddy.”

     Frowning slightly, Ben looked down to see a little Golden Retriever puppy on the end of the leash, stepping forward to eagerly lick and sniff at his feet.

     “What’s this?” he asked, looking back up to Rose. He liked dogs well enough, but now wasn’t really the time… “I don’t really—”

     “Rey wanted—listen when you're best friends, you make a lot of promises. And _this_ is one I made her. So this is Sunny, and this is for you,” Rose said, handing over the leash and a large canvas bag. The bag had puppy food and a food and water dish set, as well as some chew toys because puppies and teeth. “There's a letter in there, too. She...really, really loved you, Ben. She wanted nothing more than to make sure you were taken care of, no matter what. I've never read it, in case you were wondering. I just held onto it.”

     Taking the bag of food and supplies, as well as the leash, he looked down at the dog again, this little golden ball of fluff that was wiggling so happily around his legs. This dog, this little creature, was a gift from his wife, and now it would be the most treasured thing to him besides her.

     “Sunny, huh?” he asked quietly, setting the bag down as he crouched before it and offered his fingers. She immediately started licking and nibbling on him, her butt shaking so quickly from side to side that it was nearly a blur. Looking up to Rose as he began to stroke her head, he asked, “She got me a dog? That...seems like something she would do.”

     “She was specific about it being a Golden, and the name, too. But I chose a girl. You need a good woman in your life,” Rose stated. She smiled softly at the little pup so happily cozying up to her new master. “You can call if you need anything, okay? Don't forget that we are here for you. We loved her, too.”

     Scooping up the dog and rising to his feet, Ben stroked her head softly, smiling ever so faintly when Sunny relaxed in his hold, the picture perfect puppy.

     “Thanks a lot, Rose. I mean that, and if you ever need...well, I’m here, too.” He looked down at the pup again, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Rey had planned so far ahead that she had this all set up in the event of her death. “Did you want a cup of tea or anything?”

     “I really need to cry now,” she confessed, shoving her now-empty hands in her pockets. “She's great at cheering you up. I think Rey and I picked you a good one. I'll...I'll be seeing you, Ben. Take care.”

     “Be seeing you, too, Rose. Same to you,” he replied, standing in the doorway until she had driven off. When her taillights had disappeared around the bend, Ben finally closed the door and set the puppy down, reaching around to the collar to unclip the leash and hang it tenderly on the coat rack attached to the wall by the door.

     He watched the puppy for a moment, fascinated. “So, Sunny, it’s just you and me now, I guess. What are we going to do?”

     Sunny sat obediently on the cool floor, cocking her head to the side as she gazed up at her master. She liked the lady, but this guy seemed nice, too. She pawed at the air in front of her, giving a gentle little yap of curiosity. What did _he_ want to do?

     Looking over to the bag, recalling that Rose had said there was a letter inside, along with some essentials, he pulled it open and found first the food dishes, a few toys stuffed inside them to keep them away from the food. There was a little rope thing, along with a few bone-shaped ones and what appeared to be an antler chew, as well.

     Laying them out on the floor, he watched as Sunny took a liking to the rope and began to swing it around her head like a maniac. Reaching into the bag again, he found what he was looking for—a cream letter trimmed in little lines of gold, his name scrawled out in Rey’s penmanship across the front. On the back was an imprint of her lips in red lipstick. Instantly, he knew exactly which stick upstairs had done it, as it was his favorite on her.

     Feeling the emotions he’d been denying all morning long start to churn in his chest, he rose back to his feet and made his way around to the living room. Sitting on the edge, he traced his fingers over the shape of her mouth, the perfect line of her cupid’s bow, the fullness of her lower lip.

     Letting out a deep breath, he finally stuck his finger under the seal and pulled out the letter to read:

 

> _My dearest Ben,_
> 
> _Reading this means that something has happened to me, and I am so sorry that I cannot be there for you anymore. But you'll need something, someone, to love, and no, that car of yours doesn't count. You always said I was your little ray of sunshine, so I had to make sure you had that sun with you forever, because you deserve that, Ben. You deserve all good things because you are good. I love you so much and I hope I was able to show you that in whatever time we had. I hope that however it happened, I am now at peace, and until that day that you can be with me again, I hope your new ray of sunshine helps you find peace, too._
> 
> _Your best friend,_
> 
> _Rey Solo._

 

     He wasn’t sure during which part of reading the letter that he’d started crying, tears streaming down his face that morphed into body-wracking sobs. In this letter, he had a piece of her, a piece that he could keep forever and look to whenever he needed comfort. She would always be with him in this way, her words reassuring that she loved him just as fiercely as he had loved her.

     Clutching the letter to his chest, he let the tears come, unable to deny that he needed this release, that it was cathartic in a way, to let it all out.

     He could feel Sunny nudging curiously at him with her cold little nose, only to feel her hop onto the couch beside him and worm her way into his lap. He held her with one arm, burying his face into her soft fur. She just let him cry, seeming to understand the pain he was sharing with her.

     Rose and Rey had really picked a good one, indeed.

 

* * *

 

 _“Hi! Oh my god, you would not_ believe _the day I had today! If it wasn't the docs it was the patients who, and I know how you feel about puns, but were_ really _doing their best to get on_ mine! _It seemed like everyone wanted to fight with me today, and I literally only had Rose in my corner and she may be fierce but she cannot save me from everyone.”_

_Rey moved like a storm, shoes kicked off at the door and purse falling to the floor, her coat next as she held only onto her phone and her lunch bag. She'd get to her mess later...if Ben hadn't already picked it up. He was so good to her like that. Never complaining, just picking up her mess and cleaning with his usual attention to detail._

_Sighing as she padded into the kitchen, she tossed her empty lunch bag onto the counter, her water bottle making a loud_ clank _as it rolled into the sink. She set her phone on the island and groaned as she began tugging the ties from her hair, needing it to be free._

_“I love my job, I love my job, I love my job,” she chanted as she closed her eyes and shook her hair out, almost violently. “Right?” she asked, peeking one eye open to glance over at where her husband was preparing their dinner._

_He was watching her in that quiet way of his, a small, amused smile on his lips as he carefully browned the meat on a burner. Even as frazzled and stressed out as she was, she was still the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Every day he got to wake up to her lovely face was a good day in his book, even if her morning breath was something to be reckoned with._

_“Yes, you love your job, sweetheart, even when you don’t,” he told her, his smile stretching even wider._

_“You're right. Without it, I wouldn't have you,” she admitted, giving him a tired smile in response. “You know, of all the patients who have smoothly asked me out for coffee, you're only the fourth one I said yes to.”_

_“I’m also the only one you agreed to marry,” he pointed out with a laugh, setting the spatula down so that he could greet her properly. Moving over to her, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her forehead first, and then her lips, soft and sweet. “Unless you have a secret ex-husband that I don’t know about.”_

_She melted into his touch, feeling all of her stress melt away. He had that effect on her. It was near intoxicating, really._

_“Oh, you know me. The girls and I have this thing where we marry the rich ones and take their money once they're dead. It's all terribly evil,” she snarked, her hands coming up to hold his face as she leaned her forehead on his chest. “I miss you every day, you know. When I go to work, I miss you so much.”_

       _“I miss you every day that I go, too,” he murmured, resting his cheek on the top of her head as his arms wound around her body. “You're very distracting.”_

 _She sighed, nuzzling into him. “I'm just glad that I'm not distracting you from_ that _anymore. I'm so glad that you're out, Ben. I love you so much.”_

_“Me, too, baby. Me, too.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can also come say hi to either one of us on Tumblr: @eskayrobot and @thewayofthesith
> 
> Also, thank you so much to JustAnotherSailorScout for being a mini beta and offering a few ideas!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dog dies.

    Sunny _loved_ her human. He was always home with her, and when they weren't at home, he took her with him wherever he went. She _loved_ car rides, and car rides with her human were the best, because he kept a window rolled down for her and drove _super_ fast so that there was always a lot of wind and a lot of smells. She loved that he always woke up as soon as she had to go outside, and that he fed her and played with her whenever she asked.

    Sunny didn't like it when her human cried, though, and he cried a lot. She did her best to be there for him like she was supposed to, offering up cuddles and kisses whenever she scented tears. She let him hold her to his chest and let him pet her endlessly, even when she _really_ had to pee or eat or drink or chew. She had to be good for her human. She hated seeing him sad. She hoped to make him happy again.

    He wanted to go for another car ride and she was only too happy to go along. She trailed after him, her tail wagging happily as they walked into the garage. She hopped up and over to her seat when he held the door for her, excitedly waiting for her window to go down. He wasn't crying, which was good. She really loved her human. And she _really_ loved car rides.

    The ride was fun! Her human got to go some place secret, where no other humans seemed to be, and drive around _really_ fast, which she _loved!_ He was always careful not to turn the car too fast, either, after the time she tumbled off the seat. He was the best human. She loved doing this.

    When they were done, she noticed that they were going somewhere new. She sniffed the air as they slowed down, pulling into a place where there was a sharp, acrid smell. She didn't like it, but he told her that she was a good girl and to stay as he got out of the car, so she did. She was a good girl. She loved her human.

    Leaning against the tail end of his obsidian Boss 429 while the gas pumped, Ben people watched for a minute, seeing a family of five hopping out of a nearby minivan. The kids looked like they were nearing their teenage  years, and the expression on their face said they were _less than thrilled_ to be driving around with mom and dad, going who knows where.

    The past few days had been...okay, really. They were certainly made better by a certain bundle of joy from Rey, a constant distraction that he was eternally grateful for. Still, the dog had to sleep sometimes, worn out from a day of activities and a full belly. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t had a single accident in the house so far, and he wondered more about where exactly she had come from, if her breeder or the shelter or whatever, had taken the time to try and potty train her.

    She was a good girl, and he remembered the first night he’d tried to set a bed up for her on the floor beside his own. It had only taken a few minutes of whining for him to cave and let her jump up beside him, where she promptly fell asleep behind his legs, sprawled out in typical puppy fashion.

    Sunny watched sadly as the minivan drove off, the kids going with it. She'd like them, they noticed her and cooed at her and she liked that. Only too soon after, another car pulled up. It reminded her of her human's car, although she liked her master's car much more. Three men exited it, and she gave a soft whine as their scents hit her. She didn't like these men. She wanted her human to hurry so they could go. they smelled wrong.

    “Shit, a Boss 429. A fucking beaut. Is this a ‘70?” a pasty redhead asked as he sauntered over to their pump, an unlit cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.

    Looking up at the sound of someone talking to him, Ben stared for a heartbeat, recognition dawning from his past.

     When he spoke, he was glad it sounded friendly enough, “‘69, actually.”

     He pulled the gas nozzle from his car, set it back into its holder and moved around to open the driver’s side.

    The man gave a slow whistle as he looked over the car, drinking in every beautiful, meticulous detail. He frowned when he noticed something that definitely did _not_ belong in the front seat, staring at him with little friendliness. Since when were Golden puppies so fucking judgy? Clearly this guy didn't know how to take care of such a classic, if he was letting a stupid fucking puppy sit in the front seat.

    “How much?” the ginger asked, leaning on the open window.

    Sunny growled.

    Was this kid seriously asking him if he was selling his car? One of the few things he had left in the world that brought him some semblance of comfort?

    Turning to face him, Ben said, still friendly but firmly, “She’s not for sale.”

    “I'm asking about the car, not the bitch,” Hux scoffed. He didn't understand people's attachments to their pets, but he _obviously_ didn't want the dumb dog. A car, however, could be bought for the right price.

    "The car’s not for sale, either,” Ben replied, looking down briefly over Hux’s body that he could see from through the window. He was betting he had at least one gun on him, possibly a few knives. He was also exceptionally stupid to stick his head through the window of the car on Sunny’s side--clearly he was arrogant and stupid.

    “Everything is for sale for me,” Hux smirked confidently. “You don't even know who I am, _old man_. I always get what I want.”

 _“Hux!_ ” an older man snapped, yanking Hux's shoulder back. “Sorry, sir. Have a good day,” he said, too busy glaring at this stupid fucking kid he was forced to babysit to look at the man he was threatening. All that fucking schooling the boss had insisted he have was clearly useless, as this fucking moron was still a cocky little shit.

    Ben looked up to the other man, recognizing him instantly as Canady, one of Snoke’s loyal men. He’d added a few years, it seemed. They all had; time truly was a bitch. Nodding once, he stuck his car key into the ignition and revved the car to life.

     Immediately, he pulled away and headed back to his house. What were Snoke’s men doing around here? Here, in the middle of this little town on the outskirts of the city? Didn’t they have better places to be, jobs to do?

    Why, why, _why?_

 

* * *

 

    Upon returning home, he made sure Sunny went potty before heading into the house, where he praised her for being such a good girl with a pat to the head. Giving her a treat, he set about getting her dinner ready, pouring a few scoops into her stainless steel bowl.

    “Here you go—bon appetit,” he murmured as he set it before her, smiling at the way her tail wagged as she gobbled down the food.

    Stepping away to start making something for himself, even if he didn’t really feel like eating, he paused when he heard his phone ringing, the tone matching the one he had assigned to his mother.

    Grabbing it, he answered and put it on speaker, placing it down on the counter while he went around to start getting ingredients together.

    “Hey, mom,” he greeted.

    “Hey, Benny. How are you?” Leia asked. She had hated it when people asked her such a dumb question, and she hoped he understood how she meant it.

    Taking a pot from a nearby cabinet, he shrugged, knowing she couldn’t see it. “As well as I can be, I guess. You?”

    “As well as I can,” she agreed. “I loved her, Ben. And not just because she got you out of that fucked up situation your dad never should have introduced you to in the first place, although that helped. She was perfect for you, for us. After your dad passed and things got so bad and I...I miss her.”

    “Me, too,” he said, moving next to the fridge to grab some tomatoes. “She...she got me a dog.”

    “A dog? Ben, do you even _like_ dogs?” Leia gasped.

    “I like them a whole lot more now. But yes, I like dogs. You remember how Chewie and I got along well,” he said, referring to the old chocolate Labrador that had belonged to Han. “I’ll send you a picture—her name’s Sunny.”

    “Sunny,” Leia breathed, her heart skipping a beat. “Oh that's so...perfect. She really was perfect for you. _Is._ She's not gone, not really. As long as you still love her, she's still alive, in your heart. A piece of her lives on in you, me, her friends, that sweet dog…” she trailed off, her chest tight. She didn’t want to upset Ben.

    “I’ll always love her,” Ben sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes. “You know how you never remarried, because it just wouldn’t feel right? That’s how I am. There will never be anyone else but her, and I’m—I’m okay with that.”

    “That's perfectly okay, Ben. We can't choose who holds our hearts, and, unfortunately, we can't choose what happens to them.” Leia sighed again, her lifelong weariness catching up with her. “Call me if you need me, okay? I don't want you to think I'm encroaching on your grief. I understand that it takes time.”

    “Thanks,” he replied, looking around the house that was far too large for just him. “Oh, before I forget—I saw Snoke’s men prowling around recently. Just be careful.”

    Leia felt a chill race down her spine at that name. “Are you working again?” she whispered.

    “No, I’m not, which makes it all the stranger,” he said, frowning down at the stove. “Just keep in touch, okay?”

    “I will,” she promised.

    Sunny gave a little yap when her human ended his call. She liked that human, too. She wanted to meet her and cuddle her. She sounded like she needed some kisses.

    Looking down at Sunny, Ben shook his head. This dog was just too adorable, really. Seriously.

    He finished making his meal and took it around to the other side of the island. He pulled out a chair and settled down to finish his meal in relative silence, no one to converse with that could have an actual conversation back with him.

    When he was done and had cleaned everything up, he turned to Sunny again. “Time for bed, you think?”

    She gave a happy little dance, her tiny nails tapping on the ground excitedly. She loved sleeping with her human. He was so warm! He made her think of her mom.

    With a little nod of his head, he summoned her to follow, trudging their way up the staircase and into the bedroom. It felt...a little less empty, now that he wasn’t completely alone. He crawled into the bed, glancing over at the clock that went off at 6AM sharp every single morning. Beside it was a a necklace, winking silver in the light from the lamp. It had been an anniversary present to Rey, one year into their relationship. He’d taken her out to the fancy restaurant in the city that she loved so much, the same one that they’d had their first date after the coffee shop.

    Sighing heavily, that same anguish flaring up in his chest again, he looked down to where Sunny was sitting expectantly by the bed, looking up at him with those sad, puppy eyes of hers. He’d attempted, rather lamely, to get her to sleep on a pile of blankets provided a few times, but she seemed to enjoy the contact.

    “All right, come on,” he grumbled, gesturing up to the bed.

    She complied immediately, tail wagging as she curled up against his side.

    Turning off the light, he stared the wall for a long time, mind blissfully blank. He knew he owed it all to this little bundle of warmth, and for the first time in over a week, he was finally able to sleep without nightmares.

 

* * *

 

    The bark woke him up first, one that dogs give when they hear something that isn’t quite right, rather than barking just because, the telltale movement across the bed letting him know that Sunny had jumped off and was scurrying across the hardwood to the rest of the house.

    Instantly on alert, Ben sat up, listening for something, anything that might give a clue as to what had happened. He was still a bit groggy, sleep digging its claws into his mind and making him a bit fuzzy.

    Pushing the covers back, he walked down the stairs, still hearing no hint of movement. The entire house was dark, and as he headed down the stairs to the living room, he froze when he saw six men standing there, dressed all in black, masks covering their faces. Each was armed with metallic bats, bludgeoning items.

    Stealth always had been the name of the game, after all.

    Before he had time to react, there was pain blossoming in the back of his head, hot and throbbing. It had taken him completely by surprise, and he was down on his knees in an instant, groaning softly. The next blow came to his back, bowing him over, before one of the men stepped forward and kicked him straight in the face, bloodying his nose to send it flying across the hardwood.

    Mind screaming in pain as more and more hits rained down on him, Ben tried to get a good look up at the attackers. He could hear Sunny in the background somewhere, whining and keening in panic.

    “Should have just sold me the car, mate,” Hux sneered as he brought his bat up and bashed the end of it into Ben's face. “Where are the keys?”

    Stunned by yet another hit, he was unable to really make out what the man looming over him had said. Grunting in pain, he brought his hand up to weakly defend himself.

    “The fucking _keys_ , dude. Where the fuck are they?!” Hux snarled, bashing the heel of the bat in again.

    Sunny growled and yapped. Someone was hurting her human! She didn't know what to do, but she had to do something! She whimpered and growled, snapping at the air in hopes that she could scare these bad men away.

    “Will someone shut that fucking dog up?” a henchman snapped.

    “Just get the keys and go, man. We need to get out,” another urged, holding his bat aloft but not ready yet to swing. Something didn't seem right here, they really were going too far.

    Sunny kept barking, moving a few more inches out of her hiding place with every forceful yap. They needed to go! They'd hurt her human! They needed to—

    “Shut the _fuck_ up!” Hux screamed, bludgeoning the annoying dog. When he heard her pitiful final yelp, he kicked her away and turned back to the task at hand. “ _Keys_ , mate, or you're next!”

    “Got them,” another one said, having been rummaging around by the door. He dangled them in the air, eyes falling briefly to the man on the ground. “Hey, we can go, man.”

    Hux smirked from behind his mask and delivered one last stomp to his victim's side, hearing a satisfying crunch. “Let's go. He better count himself lucky that he's still alive. Fucking asshole.”

    They moved out to the garage and soon, there was silence, save for the heavy, ragged breathing of Ben and a sudden shuddering whimper from Sunny.

    She opened her eyes weakly and gave a few pained whimpers. But she had to get to her human. She needed to comfort him. He looked so sad. It hurt to drag herself, but the cool floor felt good and it wasn't so far. It was never too far to get to her human.

 

* * *

 

    When Ben finally came to, his vision still blurry and unfocused, it took him a few attempts to figure out what was lying in front of him. When it finally clicked into place, the golden ball of fluff being covered in blood, he rolled over and pushed himself up onto one elbow.

    “No,” he whispered, wincing in pain as he moved, his hand instantly reaching out to touch the dog. “No, no, _no.”_

    Ignoring the aches and pains in his own body, the large purple bruises that were forming along his torso and arms, he sat upright, scooping the dog tenderly to his chest. Her head hung limply, and he did his best to support it, but one look at her eyes and it was easy to see that she was gone.

    He stroked her head softly, the same way he had done that first night, the same way he'd done every night after. His entire mind felt more raw now than it had in the past couple days, flayed apart until he was exposed, bleeding in more ways than one. He'd failed Sunny; he was supposed to protect her. He hadn't been able to save Rey, and there was no one to seek revenge on for her death, but he could do something for his dog. He knew exactly who it had been in his house—a certain little redhead prick by the name of Armitage Hux.

    One look outside showed it to still be dark, and the body in his arms was still warm, so it couldn't have been too long.

    Carefully, he tucked her in closer to him as he rose to shaky feet, the room still spinning slightly around him. He snatched the blanket off the back of the couch, wrapping it around her several times before setting her on the cushion. At least the layers of fabric would prevent any blood from seeping into the fabric below.

    He moved upstairs into Rey's closet, a space he had yet to allow himself into. He had Rose and Leia go in for her clothes for the funeral, he wasn't in the right space for it. He took only a moment to inhale deeply, letting what was left of her scent settle into his lungs. It did nothing to quell the rage boiling inside him, but it did help him go about his task. There, at the corner of the room was a stack of shoe boxes. He tenderly emptied a box of their brown leather boots (stiletto so she didn't have to reach so high to kiss him, but he would almost always either be carrying her or the boots by the end of the night, not that he ever minded either) and carried the box downstairs.

    Morning was still but a suggestion as he went into his half-empty garage for the shovel. Those fuckers had even tossed a bat through the windshield of Rey's dependable beige SUV. It was just more fuel for his fire, more justification for everything he was going to do.

    He'd already put one woman he loved into the ground this week, and, as he tenderly sifted the dirt over the box, here he was, doing it again. Sunny had been his bandaid, his chance at love again, his _hope_. Sunny was a piece of Rey he never expected to be good enough to keep, and now...

    Once he was done lying Sunny to rest, he trudged back into the house and cleaned up their blood from the floor. With his same meticulous care as always, he scrubbed the red stains up, that detachment melting away as logic began to click into place. There was only one place that piece of shit could have gone with his car, which would lead him everywhere he needed to go. Luckily, Cassian was still a friend and he knew that he would get the answers he needed from him. Calling for a cab, Ben simply slid a coat on over his bloodied shirt and left the house.

 

* * *

 

_He sat on the examination table as instructed, his head lowered away from the fluorescent lights overhead. The hospital had been the last place he wanted to go, as anytime there was a gunshot wound, the police had to be called. He couldn’t very well tell them the truth as to how he’d received it, and they’d perhaps try to push the issue with a threat of being uncooperative if he didn’t say anything. Still, he had two bullet holes, one on the upper right corner of his back, just out of reach for him to tend to it himself. The second was on the right side of his stomach, just above his hip bone._

_Unfortunately, the doctor used by the Continental had been tending to another, so he’d had to seek alternate treatment._

_This nurse, though…_

_Something about her told him she would help him without too many questions, that she would simply see to it and go. Maybe it was the intrigue he could see in her lovely hazel eyes, the questions dancing on her lips as she moved around behind him in the examination room._

_He was in agony, both wounds hurting like hell, but he didn't show the pain. He just sat on the edge of the table, one large hand gripping the edge as he leaned forward, inhaling deeply to steady his breaths. The other clutched some gauze over the wound on his abdomen, waiting for her to speak. She acted like a nervous little gazelle, and he could sense the way she watched him from the corner of her eye._

_“So. Not your night, huh?” she asked as she readied the needle for his stitches. She wished there was someone else who could help her with a bullet extraction, but the ER was frustratingly busy tonight. Well, it was frustratingly busy_ every _night, but when they were too busy to spare hands for bullet wounds, it irked her. At least they weren't too life threatening. The one at his hip, possibly, but only if allowed to fester and rot._

_“I guess you could say that,” he replied, his voice sounding just a bit strained. “Shirt off?”_

_“Please. It will make it easier to see the extent of your injuries,” she replied._

_Moving stiffly, he managed to work his arms out of the shirt, and then used his good one to finish removing it completely. He set it aside, rolling his shoulders slightly to resettle himself. “What’s your name?”_

_She gave him a small smirk as she began to clean the entry wounds. “Rey. Yours?”_

_She had a feeling that he wasn’t the Mr. John Smith that he’d signed in as. It was only so rare that anyone really was. Even though he had proof of insurance and everything, she just_ knew. _But she wouldn’t rat him out. She wouldn’t dream of it...if only because there was a series of scars on his back and chest, not to mention those tattoos. She mentally tried to commit them to memory. They had to mean something._

_“You have my name in your file,” he murmured, gritting his teeth against the faint sting of iodine as she swiped it around the wounds._

_She still had to go in and retrieve the bullets, which was bound to be oodles of fun in itself. Somehow, he felt confident that she was competent enough to do it._

_“John Smith?” she teased. She set the soiled cotton balls aside and helped him lie down so that she could pull the overhead light over, giving her plentiful access to his wounds. At least they were on the same side. She supposed that was sort of lucky._

_He managed to give her a faint smile, tilting his head down a bit to watch her. “If that's what it says.”_

_She dabbed a numbing cream around the wounds, gentle with her taps. “Well then, Mr. Smith, you know that it’s protocol for me to call the cops, right? You could have maybe used the “cleaning my gun” excuse with one, but two? Now that’s really clumsy.”_

_“I'm very clumsy at times, Miss Rey,” he replied smoothly, feeling the numbing cream get to work. “I was cleaning it and it went off the first time. Then I tripped—can you believe that? I tripped, dropped the gun, and the bullet ricocheted. Bad luck.”_

_“My, my, Mr. Smith. You’re the clumsiest man I’ve ever had on my bed,” she teased._

_“Well then, now that we have that settled, there's no need to inform the police,” he said, feeling the gentle tug of her exploring the wound for the bullet._

_“Are you asking me to break the law, Mr. Smith? I could get in a lot of trouble if someone found out. Almost as much trouble as I could get in for accepting a person with fake insurance and ID,” she said. She smiled in triumph as she felt her tweezers connect with the bullet. She just needed to extract._

_“Is that the same amount of trouble you'd get in for going to get coffee with a patient, Miss Rey?” he countered instead, evading her questions._

_She dropped the bloodied bullet on the tray and moved down to get the one at his hip. “It’s generally frowned upon, but it works out quite nicely when the patient uses false information. Less of a paper trail, of course.”_

_Meeting her gaze briefly, he raised an eyebrow at her before looking down to the purpled, bruised skin that surrounded the wound on his side. “Is that a yes?”_

_She winced a bit as she dug around. This one was in much deeper, and she had to work quickly to make sure it didn’t accidentally get pushed in further by her own clumsiness. Doctors really should be the ones doing this, but such was her life sometimes._

_“I think you’ve gone through some trauma tonight, Mr. Smith, and you’ll regret that you asked me come morning,” she replied._

_Grunting slightly as a particular poke from her tweezers hit a piece of tissue not yet affected by the numbing medication, he kept as still as possible for her. “I'm quite clumsy with my gun, Miss Rey. This isn't the first time I've accidentally had it go off—I’m very lucid right now, I assure you. One coffee.”_

_“You want to have a coffee with me?” she repeated. She looked up at him and had to quickly look away, that look in his eyes something she wasn’t quite sure she understood. “What for?”_

_“It's only fair, since you're currently digging two bullets out of me,” he replied. “And because nurses are incredibly underpaid and overworked.”_

_“Oh, so you’re going to be_ buying _me a coffee? That’s rather presumptuous of you,” she smirked. Successfully extracting the second bullet and hearing that hard clink on the tray, she moved on to stitching him up._

_“Only because I'm the one asking you. If you were asking me, I'd fully expect you to pay,” he smirked, lifting his head to watch her._

_She gave a laugh. “Well, you must understand that I have options. You’re the third to ask me just this night. I mean, a girl has got to play the field, vet out the potential serial killers and what not.”_

_“And how many others have you said yes to?”_

_“Zero. I’m a picky girl, Mr. Smith. Not just any man can sweep me off my feet.”_

_She gave the final tug on the stitches on his shoulder and then tied it off, preparing to move on to the next. This would be a bit harder, she could see scar tissue from a previous wound. She couldn’t help but wonder what it was that he did to continuously put himself in these kinds of positions._

_And did she really want to entertain the idea of seeing him outside of this?_

_Catching his eye again, she shivered. Okay. Maybe. He was...intriguing._

_“I'm only asking you for one coffee, Miss Rey, not marriage,” he said as he carefully propped himself up on his elbows. “One coffee, and if you don't enjoy my company, I won't ask again. You may even learn my real name.”_

_She stitched him in silence, contemplating his offer. Everything in her warned her that he was dangerous, that he was bad news and he should be avoided. Not even cops were this scarred. This man was danger and bad and was not at all the type of person she should spend what limited time she had off on._

_“Okay.”_


	3. Chapter 3

     The chop shop was alive with sights and sounds at all hours, always work to be done. Cassian Andor was a hard yet fair boss, working his guys and gals to the fullest of their talents. They did the near-thankless job of working for the underbelly of the world, erasing cars from the grid and supplying them where needed, as well as souping up cars to suit the needs of bosses and henchmen. Their jobs were to work for who paid them and not ask questions.

    Except for this particular car.

    This particular car was familiar to him, as he had repaired it on more than one occasion, but the driver behind the wheel was _not_ the man he knew and could call friend.

    “What the hell is this?” Cassian asked, striding forward to point at the sleek Mustang.

    “It's a fucking car. Erase the VIN and get on with it,” Hux sneered, rolling his eyes at the immediate annoyance of this old man who needed to know his place.

    “Where the hell did you get it?” Cassian demanded, eyeing this punk kid that thought he was hot shit.

    “Some fucking asshole who didn't know a good deal when it hit him in the fucking face. So I took his car and killed his dumb dog. Just do the job, Andor. Don't forget I own your ass,” Hux scoffed, rolling his eyes as he turned away.

    “Own me? _Own_ me? Look here, you little shit,” Cassian said as he grabbed Hux by the shoulder and whirled him back around. He pointed one long finger at him, inches away from his nose. “I work with your _father,_ not you. You think you're hot shit because you beat up a guy and killed his dog—really, you _killed_ his dog? What about the guy?”

    Hux seemed perplexed for a moment, tilting his head at the underlying question that seemed to be hidden within the words. “No, he’s not dead.”

    “Get this outta here! Just take it and get out!” Cassian snarled. “I don’t want this car in my shop.”

    “What the fuck, Andor? Just do the fucking job!” Hux snapped. He looked at his men, snapping his fingers to command them to action. He smirked with satisfaction as three guns were immediately pulled out at the old man. “Get going or else I'll find someone _else_ to run this shit shop.”

    “You got a lot of balls on you, kid, I'll give you that. Coming into _my_ shop, threatening to replace _me?”_ Cassian scoffed. Maybe it was impulse, or maybe he was just tired of the kid’s shit, but no matter the reason, he threw a punch, hitting him hard in the nose. He ignored the guns on him, the way they jerked further to attention but didn’t fire. These guys weren't gonna do shit, not if they valued their own lives. “Get—the fuck— _out.”_

    Hux stumbled back, a hand flying up to his bloodied nose in horror. “Just wait until my father hears!” he snarled. “Let's fucking go!”

    His henchmen followed, everyone climbing back into the rare car at haste. Hux tore out of there, phone already to his ear as he went to contact his father and report this insubordination. This would _not_ go unpunished if he had any say!

    “Yeah, yeah, get the fuck out of here!” Cassian shouted after them, waving his hands as he rolled his eyes. He’d give Snoke a call in a bit—let the little coward tell his side first, and then Cassian would tell the truth. He may deal in stolen cars all the time, but he wasn’t a liar.

 

* * *

 

    When Ben arrived at the shop and saw Cassian’s face, he knew. He just knew.

    “Is it here?” he asked, his cheek sporting several darkened bruises as he glanced around the shop again.

    “It was,” Cassian admitted with a solemn nod. He poured some gin for the man, offering it to him before knocking back his own. “I'm sorry to hear about Rey, man. And now your dog. Fucking spoiled little shit.”

    Sitting down beside the man, Ben sighed and reached for the glass, swirling it around absently before swallowing it down. The burn was good, and it would help to dull the aches he felt all over his body. “Thanks,” he replied, looking up to meet the other man’s eyes. “Snoke’s son, right?”

    “Yeah. Just came back from that lovely world tour he was doing: The Best of the High Table.” Cassian rolled his eyes. “He came back more of a spoiled little asshole than before, and not any better than running a crime empire. Piece of shit kid.”

    “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” Ben replied. “Any idea where he would go?”

    “The city. Back to daddy's empire. He was on his first big mission,” Cassian spat, rolling his eyes at this information.

    “Hey, Cass, gotta favor to ask you,” Ben said, taking a slow sweep of the other cars being worked on throughout the shop. “Can I get a ride?”

    There were a few that had caught his eye, namely that Camaro over there in the corner, but he’d take what he could get. Any of these cars would do as he asked when he pressed his foot down on the pedal, and he wouldn’t need it for long—just until he got his own back.

    “Anything you want, man,” Cassian replied, immediately moving to grab the keys for the green Camaro with white racing stripes down the top. It was one of his personal cars, but it was better to hand it over to Ben than to horde it for himself. Ben was the last person's bad side he wanted to be on.

    “Thanks,” Ben said, catching the keys as they were thrown to him and then heading over to the car.

    The engine purred to life, but he knew it would roar if need be, as nearly everything on these cars was modified for maximum potential. They had jobs to perform, and every piece on them was top of the line, costing a pretty penny.

    As he headed out with a final wave, Ben watched in the rearview mirror as Cassian reached down to answer his phone.

 

* * *

 

    “I hear you struck my son,” Snoke said matter-of-factly, overlooking the city from the top of his penthouse suite. He was nursing a glass of bourbon in one hand, his other holding the phone against his ear. “Care to tell me why?”

    “He stole Kylo Ren's car, sir. And killed his dog,” Cassian replied, no fear for his own life now. Only an idiot wouldn't see what was wrong with _that_.

    There was a long stretch of silence on the other end of the line, where Snoke froze, his expression morphing from disbelief, into anger, and then finally to fear. “...Oh,” he murmured. “I see.”

    He hung up a moment later, needing no further information. The ice in his glass clinked back and forth as he swirled the liquid around, his expression pensive as he stared out over the city lights. Things had been going according to plan, and now...this was definitely a problem.

    He took the stairs down to the floor below, where it opened up into the old-style living room, with floor to ceiling bookshelves, and a wet bar along the adjacent wall. As he moved around to the other side to refill his glass, he looked over to one of his henchmen, eyebrows raised slightly.

    “Have you seen my son?” he asked.

    “He’s in the lounge with a few girls,” the man replied dutifully.

    Snoke snorted at that, bending his long, lithe frame down to reach the bottle of bourbon under the counter. “I want him in here. Now.”

    With a dip of his head, the other man marched off to go retrieve the son that no one in the organization liked, but was forced to take orders from.

    He came back in a few minutes later, nudging said son forward.

    Hux looked a little confused, wary as he took in the scene around him. His father was well-known for having enemies executed in much the same fashion, a plastic tarp laid out to collect the blood. There was no tarp here, so it had to be somewhat safe.

    Moving around the bar with two glasses in his hands, Snoke extended one out to Hux, as any man would in celebration.

    “I thought you were too busy to see me. I am happy to report my success,” Hux beamed smugly, reaching for the glass.

    Instead of handing it to him, Snoke tossed the alcohol into Hux’s face, taking the moment where the younger man was stunned to set the empty glass down and throw his fist right into the ginger’s gut.

    Hux doubled over, clutching his stomach in shock and pain. “What the _fuck!?”_ he sputtered. His father was _ancient_ , how the fuck had he hit that hard? “I did what you asked! What the fuck?”

    Grabbing him by the lapels of his sports jacket, Snoke hauled him up close, their faces level with each other. “This isn’t about Atlantic City, you imbecile.”

    “Wh—what then?” Hux asked. He shrank back from the anger in his father's eyes. He hated his father more than anyone, and he had been given good reason to fear him his whole life.

    Seeming to understand that Hux _really_ didn’t know what he had done wrong, Snoke pushed him away in disgust. “You stole a car—”

    “So fucking what? You're pissed I enacted in petty fucking theft? There are less than 3k of those in the world, it's a fucking _investment_ like you always want!” Hux defended.

    “—and killed the dog of the _one_ man on this Earth that we do _not_ want to come after us!” Snoke roared, demanding that _his_ voice be heard above all else.

    Hux stumbled back one step further. “Wha--who? Who are _you_ scared of?” he sneered, trying to sound more affronted than terrified.

    “That _man,_ the man you decided to rob...is Kylo Ren,” Snoke said, watching the way understanding began to dawn on his idiot son’s face. “He was once an associate of ours—we called him The Red Dawn, named so for the blood he spills. He’s a man of focus, of commitment, and sheer will—some things you know very little about.” He paused, tilting his head to the side as a memory came to him. “I once saw him kill three men in a bar with a pencil. A. _fucking. pencil.”_

    Turning to the bar again, he grabbed a towel from the countertop and threw it at Hux to clean up the mess as he continued. “Suddenly, one day, he asked to leave—over a woman, of course. So I made a deal with him; I gave him an _impossible_ task, a job no one could have pulled off…” His icy gaze grew distant, clearly seeing something the rest of the people in the room could not. “The bodies he buried that day laid the foundation of what we are now.” He focused in on Hux again. “And then my son, a few days after his wife dies; you steal his car, and _kill_ his _fucking_ dog. We had been planning to take him out, to tie up a loose end, but now _you,_ my _stupid, idiot_ son—have given the dog our scent.”

    Hux felt a cold tremor fill his body, chilled to the bone at his father's words.

    “K—K—Kylo Ren is _retired_. And he's ancient! He wasn't that pathetic man!” Hux sputtered uselessly. “I knew him from when I was a kid! He wasn't—that wasn't—no!”

    After a moment, Snoke turned and stepped back into his son, wrapping him up in a tight embrace, one he had never given the boy before. He turned his mouth to whisper against Hux’s ear, “The Red Dawn will come for you—he always does. And you will do nothing, because you can do nothing.”

    Hux began to shake, although he wasn't sure if it was due to his father's warning or his unfamiliar, frigid touch. “N—no. He can't. I'll—I'll kill him first! I beat the shit out of him once, I can do it again!”

    Turning to the other man in the room, Snoke asked, “Did he not hear a _fucking_ word of what I just said?” He turned back to Hux, chuckling darkly under his breath. “To you, my son, I can only say good luck. He wasn’t expecting it before, but now he is. He will be prepared, and there will be _nothing_ you can do to stop him.”

    Hux just shook his head, denying his father's words vehemently. “He won't get me. He can't. I'm...I’m a Snoke. I’m untouchable.”

    “You’re going to go with Baron here,” Snoke said with a nod to the other man lingering in the corner, watching the scene with wary interest. “He’s going to be your babysitter, to make sure you’re kept safe for as long as possible.”

    Hux glanced over at the man, barely having enough strength to sneer at him. “I don't need a babysitter. I have my crew. I can take that old man out myself.”

    “It's like talking to a wall,” Snoke said with a wave of his hand, clearly dismissing his son. He'd find out. He'd find out the hard way like everyone did.

    Hux stormed out of that room, determined to prove his decrepit father wrong. He'd kicked Kylo Ren's ass once. He'd just have to finish the job this time.

    “Sir, should we…?” Baron asked, nodding down at Snoke's phone. “My men are waiting.”

    “Send them out,” Snoke nodded. “I want this dealt with sooner rather than later.”

    “How many do you want?” Baron asked, pulling out his phone. he looked up to Snoke, fingers poised over the on-screen keyboard.

    “How many do you have?”

    There was a long stretch of silence, that heavy kind where the whole world seemed to be holding its breath before Baron nodded obediently, sending out the necessary texts. Ten men would be going to Kylo Ren's house tonight, and he knew, deep down, only one would be leaving.

 

* * *

 

    When he got home, the first thing Ben did was park Cass’ car in the garage, unwilling to have this one get destroyed when he _was_ planning on returning it. He headed inside and downstairs to the basement, still dressed in the bloody clothes from that morning. Rage was etched in his face, vibrating his body as determination surged him down the stairs, each step thunderous.

    He picked up the sledgehammer that was leaning against the wall, looking down to watch the way his hand wrapped around the wooden handle. His knuckles were white, and as he stood over the rectangular section of the floor that was just slightly different in color than the rest of the cement, he inhaled deeply. This was it—this was where he pulled out the side of him that he'd stowed away for the last five years and change. He had to wear Kylo like a mask, because only Rey and his mother had gotten to see Ben, and that had cost him everything.

    He swung the hammer high over his head, letting gravity aided momentum help with the first blow. The cement cracked, little spiderwebs branching off further and further, and the more he swung, the bigger they became. He poured all of his rage and pain into those swings, into forcing that hammer down faster and harder into the floor. Chunks began to fly off, jumping into the air to scrape against his arms, but he paid it no mind. He was focused, driven by something deep and dark inside of him that _enjoyed_ his job. He didn't like the killing part, though not did he dislike it--it was just something that he did. Something he'd grown numb to. And once he'd met Rey, he'd had some hope for a life beyond all this.

    Now, he was back.

    As he tossed the sledgehammer away and knelt down to begin scooping the debris off of the box below, he tried not to think of her face, how disappointed she would be in him for going back. He _had_ to make Hux pay for this, for coming into his home, killing Sunny—

    The box below was rectangular, sleek black, covered in a thin layer of cement dust. He pulled it out, laid it aside and flipped it open, revealing two trays. On one side were several rows of gold coins. Two-hundred eighty-eight in this case alone, not counting the stores he had placed in strategic spots around the world, each one acquired from a specific job.  

    In the other tray was his equipment. His pride and joy was his Heckler & Koch P30L, a handgun that had been his most trusted companion when he'd been out working. He'd had it fitted with a custom compensator, making it incredibly accurate and the recoil low by preventing the barrel from jerking everywhere.

    There were various knives resting there as well, deadly weapons he was also more than adept with, their blades glinting with an almost sentient glee. There was also a passport and a stack of money, perfect to just grab and go should the situation arise.

    Gathering up the case, he brought his items upstairs to the bed and went to take a shower, needing to clean up and soothe the aches in his muscles.

    He scrubbed his hair, ran the soap over his body, his mind wandering, planning, calculating. He was expecting the first hit tonight, for word to have gotten back to Snoke and for him to try to finish the job.

    As he got out and pulled his suit out of the closet, bagged to protect it, he couldn't help the memories that surfaced with each piece that was revealed.

 

* * *

 

_“How much longer do we have to keep up this whole appearance thing before I can take you upstairs and rip this off you?” Rey purred up at him._

_It was their wedding night and they were enjoying their first dance as a couple. They glided along the floor to “Falling Slowly” from Once. Rey had been surprised when Ben had agreed to the song for their first song, but he was always surprising her in ways like that. While she knew she should be over the moon about being in the arms of her husband, her dressed in a fitted white silk gown and he in a well-tailored black suit, she couldn’t help but want to enjoy a_ different _type of first dance as husband and wife._

_“As though you haven't seen me without clothes before,” he smirked, remembering how just last night, before they'd been banned from seeing each other because it was bad luck, they'd enjoyed their last night together as an engaged couple._

_Rose had tried to throw her a bachelorette party, but it hadn't really been something Rey had seemed interested in, claiming she already had all she could ever want. Little did she know, Ben had said the same thing about the bachelor party Finn and Poe had tried to get him to go to._

_“Yes, but the first time, I saw you naked as that cute guy I was seeing. And then as my boyfriend. And then my fiance. So_ now, _Mr. Solo, I need to see you naked as my husband.” She grinned then, her hands sliding down his chest to feel his hard pectorals before going back up to his well-muscled shoulders. “My husband. God, I can’t believe you’re really my husband. I can’t believe you really wanted to marry me.”_

 _“I could say the same—you're_ far _too good for me, you know,” he murmured back, his hand along her waist while the other held hers up in the air in some imitation of a waltz. It was their wedding and they could dance however they damn well pleased. “You're far more than I ever deserved.”_

_“You always say that, Ben, but you shouldn’t think it’s so true. You’re incredible. You love me more than anyone ever has and when I’m with you, I can’t believe how happy I am. There’s no one for me like you, Ben. No one,” she promised, her hazel eyes blazing with passion._

_“Nor for me,” he said, smiling as he leaned down to kiss her, so happy that he would be able to do this for the rest of his days from now on. “Let's at least finish this song, and then we can go, okay?”_

_“‘Kay,” she smiled up at him._

_Luckily, Rose was the greatest maid of honor to ever exist ever, and she only too easily read the “they want to fuck” signals the couple was sending out. As soon as the romantic acoustic faded out, she grabbed the microphone from the DJ._

_“Alright everyone, let’s hear it for Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin and Rey Solo! Everyone get your last congratulations in before they go running upstairs to rip off their pretty clothes and get working on those grandbabies for Leia,” Rose announced, a big smile on her face._

_Leia raised her glass of champagne. “Here, here to that!”_

_Everyone else joined in, their intimate assembly toasting merrily._

_Rey could hardly find it in her to be embarrassed that everyone knew what they were doing. It wasn’t like it was a secret what couples did on their wedding nights, although Rey hated to have to later inform Leia that there wouldn’t be any grandbabies just yet. Ben only recently got out of his profession and she wasn’t too keen on introducing a baby into those tepid waters at just this moment. And she was only twenty-two, after all. She had plenty of time to make Leia all the pretty (because their children could be nothing but beautiful, given how gorgeous her husband was) grandbabies she wanted._

_“Let’s go,” Rey smiled up at him, sliding her hand into his._

_“I'm right behind you,” he agreed easily, following her along and into the new chapter of their lives._

 

* * *

     He slid on the bulletproof vest over the plain white undershirt, strapping it into place with precision. It was thin and lightweight, strong but not hindering in any fashion. It may stop a bullet from piercing his body, but it was going to leave one hell of a bruise and some broken ribs. He'd take that over a bullet wound, though, and he was pretty sure Rey herself would come back from the dead and kill him if he got shot again.

    That thought alone was strangely comforting, and even managed to pull the ghost of a smile from him.

    Next came his black dress shirt, each button carefully inserted it its hole. His cuffs were checked to make sure they were straight, and he took a mental to turn in the mirror, watching himself tuck his shirt in and slide on the black leather belt. It went through each loop quickly, and he secured it at the front. Plucking a matching black tie, not too worried about it his look being one shade of black versus multiple, he laid it around his neck, lifting his chin as he tied it.

    From there, he set out his holsters, pulling on the shoulder one for concealed carry, while he added a few knife sheaths added to his wrist, waist, and ankles. Never knew when you needed something to throw at someone. He added his second pistol, a Walther P99, to the small of his back, just in case. Loaded to the maximum with ammunition, he slid his jacket on and took a look at himself again.

    It was like a completely different person was staring back at him, a ghost long dead and gone.

    Kylo Ren was back, and he was pissed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuuuunnnnn


	4. Chapter 4

    Snoke knew he had to try. It was worth the effort, wasn’t it? He could save the life of his son, possibly. He may not have loved his social-climbing bitch of a mother, and he may not give too many fucks about the kid in general, but the natural order said it was best to pass his empire on to family and that was Hux.

    He listened as the phone line trilled, wondering if this was still Kylo Ren’s number in the first place. When the line was received, he understood that, indeed, it was.

    “Kylo Ren, it’s been a while. I was wondering if we could talk about this situation like the civilized gentlemen we are,” Snoke greeted.

    There was nothing but silence and he felt dread fill him.

    “I was very saddened to hear about the loss of your young wife. I know that she was of the same age as my own Armitage, far too young to die, don’t you agree?”  

    More silence. This was not going the way he had hoped, and yet, he knew that this was the only way it could have gone. He worried he may be making things worse.

    “I do ask that you spare the life of my boy. He’s young, he doesn’t understand what he’s done. He hardly remembers you, after all. He’s only just a boy who is learning his place in the world. Shouldn’t we be protecting that sense of ambition?”

    This time, the silence spoke even more.

    “Ah. I see. Well, good night then, Mr. Ren. I’m...I’m sure I’ll be seeing you.”

    Snoke heard the line end before he finished speaking. He swallowed heavily and reached for another drink. This was not good.

    “What did he say?” Canady asked, Snoke’s associates having been observing anxiously.

    “Enough,” Snoke replied simply.

 _Fuck_ could not have been more universally thought amongst them all.

 

* * *

 

    When the cover of darkness fell, he was ready for them. Let them come, he thought. Snoke’s phone call had pretty much solidified what Ben had been thinking. There was someone coming now. Snoke was not a man that would allow someone to simply _kill_ his son, as that would then fall back on him and make him look bad. He had to do something—Ben understood. He would do the same thing for his own child, however, he’d also take it a step further and go in himself, rather than sending a team.

    It was the only way to make sure anything got done, really. Never leave it up to someone else.

    He turned the lights off in the house, making it seem like he was either not home or asleep—perfect for a night hit.

    As the light died, he caught a brief glimpse of the two items he’d laid out on the nightstand, Rey’s necklace, and Sunny’s collar—two reminders of why he was getting himself back into this mess.

    That was the thing about this line of work—once you were out, you could never go back or it would suck you back in, and while Ben had no plans for more beyond this one task, he knew there was a possibility. They were like sharks, constantly circling around their prey, and as soon as they detected even a hint of blood, they were swooping in for the kill.

    It didn’t take long for him to see movement outside, at least ten men in black making their way quickly up his driveway, guns in their hands and masks over their faces.

    Ben didn’t like the idea of masks, truthfully. They restricted movement, even when well-fitted, and they were terribly hot. Not the sort of distraction you wanted when it was your life or theirs on the line. It also left the idea that there might be witnesses who could possibly see your face, and Ben knew that to truly be good, you couldn’t leave any witnesses if you could help it.

    They came in through the front door, two filling the door frame and then moving out to the sides so that more could keep filing in. They couldn’t see him right away, not from where he was hidden in complete shadow on the landing above the stairs. He should have thanked Rey more for her love of glass, because now it was really proving to be useful. He could track their movements easily, listening to the faintest brush of shoes against his hardwood. They were relatively quiet, but they didn’t know how to move like a ghost, a wraith in the night. That was one of the things Ben had always been really good at—keeping a low profile.

    When the first two neared enough, he raised his gun, body already moving as he aimed. The first round went directly through the first man’s eye, instantly knocking him to the floor with a thud.

    Alarm sounded, the rest of the men started moving, pivoting in place to point their barrels directly where Ben had just been.

    He crouched down low, avoiding shots as the clash lining the railings on the landing began to shatter, raining glass down to the floor below.

    The second man was dead before he hit the ground, another shot through his jaw from lower to the ground as Ben rolled and jumped back to his feet.

    Now that the trap had been sprung, everyone’s guards were up, senses heightened. Ben’s pulse was strangely calm, his mind focused, reserved for that place he kept everything locked away.

    The pistol felt like an extension of his arm, the weight solid, but not too light, nor too heavy. He knew that swordsmiths were always looking for that perfectly balanced blade, for it to feel like no effort at all when it was swung.

    Even after five years, that was how Ben felt, like he hadn’t missed a single day of this in his life. It was natural, almost graceful, even, the way that he stalked through the house, shooting the next assailant through the chest and then adding another into his head.

    He ignored the growing pools of blood, stepping over there as though they were a nuisance more than the life force of another person. It was the only way to really keep your sanity—you had to compartmentalize; couldn’t see them as people. You had to look at them as though they were things. Its.

    He worked his way through the house, downing another, and then another.

    Creeping around a wall, he heard a small intake of breath on the other side and crouched down, instantly firing through the wall and directly into the chest of whoever was on the other side. At the exact same moment he’d fired, the attacker had also pulled the trigger, a bullet whizzing over Ben’s head and into the floor behind him. He slid around the corner, gun already coming up to aim, adding a second bullet into the head to make sure there was no chance of return fire.

    Always double-tap was the rule unless it was a headshot. In movies, they always showed people getting shot somewhere and living because the person doing the shooting didn't fucking double-tap or aim for the brain.

    He moved like a ghost, drifting from room to room, downing his opponents like they were nothing. The methods varied to each remaining individual, from more bullets, intermingled with a few times where he’d had to grab them and exchange well-timed punches. On one, he’d realized he’d run out of ammo, and in a quick thought, he flipped the gun over and used the butt to cave the man’s temple in.

    He’d counted each one as he went through them, matching up with how many he’d seen coming up the driveway, originally.

    Satisfied that every intruder was dead, their bodies littering his house on every floor, and one right in the living room, he paused as he reloaded his pistol, just in case, popping one magazine out to exchange it for a fresh one. ****

    There was a ring of the doorbell, and Ben could see through the frosted glass walls at his front door the flashing red and blue lights that heralded police. He casually slid his gun behind his back and opened the door.

    “Evenin’, Ben,” greeted Officer Temmin “Snap” Wexley, giving Ben Solo a polite tip of his police hat. He took in the blood splattered on Ben's face, and then looked past him to see two bodies on the floor, blood seeping out of them.

    “Evenin’, Snap,” Ben said, as casual as can be, his breathing still just a little heavy. “Noise complaint?”

    Snap nodded. “Noise complaint.” He moved his eyes from the corpses and back up to Ben, slowly reaching up to pull his hat off. He held it in front of him, his voice friendly, inquiring as he asked, “You, uh, workin’ again?”

    Glancing behind him at the bodies littering the ground, blood splattered all over the walls and pooling on the floor, Ben gave a little half-shrug. “Just cleaning up a few things.”

    Snap nodded, placing his hat back on. “All right, I’ll leave you to it, then. Have a good night, Ben.” He gave another tip of his hat and moved back to his squad car. No fucking way was he going to mess with Ben. Nope.

    Closing the door after Snap, Ben turned back to the scene behind him. The red and blue lights from the squad car were flashing up against the walls, making the blood on the ground alternate between black in the darkness to purple when hit with the blue strobe. Moving back through the house, careful not to step in any blood or thicker things, he headed over to the phone, immediately picking it up and dialing a number he knew all too well.

    “This is Ren—yeah, Kylo Ren. I'd like a dinner reservation for ten, please,” he said, twisting a gold coin between his fingers.

 

* * *

 

    The van that showed up a short while later proudly displayed “Cloud City Cleaning” on its side, the alliteration meant to roll eyes and easily blend in. Inside was one old man who had seen a lot in his long life, as well as a host of younger men who were learning all the ways to earn gold coins in their career field.

    “Evening, Kylo. Working again?” the old man, Lando greeted with a warm, knowing smile. He was dressed as always in a flare that didn't quite match the job he was doing, a left over from his days on Kylo's side of things.

    “No, just sorting some things out. Personal business,” Kylo replied, watching the men get to work while he stayed out of the way. He may have made the mess, but they were trained _well_ on how to clean it up.

    Lando smirked as he watched his men immediately getting to work. They were armed with saran wrap and tape, ready to wrap these ill-fated bodies up for maximum usage of the space at the back of the van. It wasn't easy finding the biggest van this late at night, but when Kylo Ren called, Lando answered. He was a great customer, after all.

    Lando's men finished loading the bodies into the back of the van, where they'd be taken away to be dismembered and disposed of in a multitude of untraceable ways. Doing things with flair was _always_ the Calrissian way, and Lando hadn't ceased in his old age. Once the house was clear of the dead, Lando's men set about to the normal cleaning, the sweeping and the bleaching, the careful combing to be sure that there was no unwanted DNA left behind. As the two men watched the others go about their task, Lando gave a heavy sigh.

    “I was sorry to hear about Rey. She seemed to make you really happy, kiddo. Your dad would have loved her,” Lando said.

    “Thanks,” Ben replied, unsure what else he was supposed to say when someone brought up his dead wife. “I'm sure he would have, too. Never met anyone that didn't like her.”

    “Snoke,” Lando suggested with a shrug. He knew just by looking that these men had been dispatched by the ancient crime lord. “But that, I think, was jealousy. You were the best and here comes this hot, young nurse, not even old enough to _drink_ , and out you go. I haven't seen someone fall that hard since, well, your parents. But, between you and me, you and Rey were far better suited. That girl loved you with all that fire inside her. I was so proud of you.”

    Managing a slight ghost of a smile, Ben nodded. “Yeah, she was...she was something else.” Looking around the room for a moment, observing how Lando’s men were cleaning up the blood splatters along the floors, walls, and even the various bits of decor around them, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the gold coin. Pressing it into Lando’s palm, he gave him a nod. “Let yourself out when you’re done. Goodbye, Lando.”

    Without another word, he left the room, heading towards the garage. There was still work that needed to be done, and the sooner he took care of it, the better. Snoke was probably waiting for a phone call from one of his men to know whether their hit had been a success or not. There was only a small window for him to get a head start on Hux’s  location.

 

* * *

 

     _“What do you think about this one?” Rey asked, holding up a blue and white pillow._

_They’d decided to go shopping today to decorate their new home, the one that Ben had built specifically for her, with her love of nature in mind. He’d made sure there were large glass windows across most of the house so that she could watch the rain drip down them, and see the morning sun unhindered as she sipped her coffee._

_He made a slight face, wrinkling his nose in distaste. Ben didn’t really like the blue on it, but he’d live with it if it meant keeping her happy. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”_

_“How about this one, then?” she asked, holding up a pale yellow one instead._

_Ben just shrugged, looking between the two. They were both ugly, in his opinion, but he didn't want to crush her spirits. “If that's what you want.”_

_“This?” A cream one next._

_“Better,” he offered, eyes sparkling with mirth. It was okay, but still didn't match his darker style._

_Rolling her eyes at him, she smacked his chest with the pillow, huffing, “It’s your house too, Ben. I want to decorate it in such a way that you find enjoyment in it, too.”_

_Smirking slightly, he plucked the pillow from her grasp and lowered it to his side as his other hand reached out to grip her hip. He drew her in close, bending down to press his lips to hers._

_She melted against him, sighing happily even though he was absolutely cheating._

_When he finally pulled back to press his forehead to hers, he murmured, “I find enjoyment in you. Wherever you’re at Rey, that’s where I’m happy. I don’t care about pillows or color schemes. I just want you.”_

_“You’re such a sap,” she replied, her smile taking the sting out of her words as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I love you. So much.”_

_“And I love you,” he said, tucking her under his arm as he pulled her along, the pillow still in his other hand. “Decorate it however you want. Whatever makes you happy.”_

_“Fine. Get the blue one.”_

_“Yes, my queen.”_

_Rey smirked and twisted so that she pressed against him, pushing up on her toes while gently turning his face down to her with one soft hand. "I'll be sure to thank my king properly when we get back. Break in the new bedding."_

_He groaned softly, wanting nothing more than to find one of the beds on display to lay her down on and show her exactly how a king pleased his queen._


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, look at that—an update!

    It had been an hour since the check-in.

    “They failed.”

    Snoke clenched his jaw, trying to ignore the race of fear that swept through him. Of course they failed. He was a fool to think that five years out of the game meant that Kylo Ren was back to being Ben Solo. Ben Solo had been raw but unfocused, full of potential but not quite there. Snoke now knew he had been a fool to take the boy on and then let him go. He had unleashed something unholy unto the world, and his fucking mistake of a son had dredged it up once more.

    “What should we do, sir?” his assistant, Kennic, asked. Baron was also looking at him, not daring to voice his own concerns.

    “We need to draw Kylo Ren out into the open and then strike him down. We need more than ten men. We need them _all,_ ” Snoke hissed.

    “We should have taken him out when we had the chance,” Kennic said forlornly.

    “We were risking enough as it was to try while he was out. If the High Table found out—”

    “That's why they weren't _going_ to, had my plan gone well. But now, my son has gone and fucked it twice over,” Snoke cut in. He paced around the room for a minute, trying to think, to decide. “Starkiller.”

    “Sir? You want him to go to Starkiller?” Baron asked, raising an eyebrow.

    “We acquired it after he left our company. He won't be familiar with the club. And I'm sure my _son_ won't mind the night out,” Snoke confirmed. He looked at Kennic. “Inform Canady, and send _everyone_. We'll call in a bounty. $2 million for the head of Kylo Ren. That should make this easier—lure the wolf with the hen.”

    “Yes, sir,” the men agreed.

    As they filed out, Snoke grabbed his phone. He had at least one ace up his sleeve.

 

* * *

 

    With the cleaning team still taking care of the mess inside the house, Ben grabbed the suitcase full of his arsenal and hopped into the car borrowed from Cassian. Trunk loaded, he raced down the highway, heading towards New York. There was one building there that would be a safe haven while he took care of things. Snoke’s lair had been in the city years ago, and Ben knew that he was not a man that liked to change too much, if the need didn’t arise. The chances of him having enough time to pack up and move were slim, and he probably felt like Kylo would be dealt with before it ever reached that point.

 

* * *

 

    “I have a contract for you,” Snoke said.

He was in a well-styled lounge in his home, sitting across from an old acquaintance. He and Galen hadn't had much dealings with one another in the past, Galen was always on the...cleaner side of things, in his opinion. Much like that damned Han Solo. But he was exactly the man Snoke needed.

    “And I have a phone.”

    “I wanted to offer you this face to face.”

    “Did you, now?” Galen asked, reclining casually in his seat.

    “$2 million, for Kylo Ren,” Snoke said. He watched the man's expression carefully. Money was a motivator for anyone, but he hoped it would especially be for this barely-working man.

    “Is it exclusive?” Galen asked, tilting his head a bit.

    “That depends. On how fast you can take care of this for me. After all, you two were close,” Snoke nodded. He felt a spike of excitement. He knew Galen could be counted on. The man may be getting on in his years, but he was still one of the best snipers in the business. And with him being one of the people Kylo may even think of as a _friend,_ it could work in their favor.

    Galen thought for a moment, finally tossing back his juice before meeting Snoke’s gaze. “Consider it done.”

 

* * *

 

    The Continental was one of the older buildings in New York, though one wouldn’t really be able to tell from how modern the inside was. It had been around for as long as the High Table had, though the owner when Ben had last been here had made significant improvements to the efficiency of everything.

    Lor San Tekka was a man not to be trifled with, having connections everywhere across the globe. With a simple phone call, he could have every single person on the globe after one target, if he so desired. He was getting on in his age, and his wisdom could at times be exceptionally helpful.

    The Continental was his baby, erected with the blessing of the High Table to be one of several safe havens for people like Kylo. It was considered neutral ground, where no business of any type was to be conducted. It was a place for them to heal and possibly even relax, with lounges and bars and everything else an otherwise upscale hotel would be.

    A bolt of nostalgia swept through him as he entered the towering building, looking for faces he recognized. Hopefully no one would see him, as this was just a one and done mission. He wasn’t back in the game. He couldn’t be.

    As he approached the front desk, carrying the case with his equipment, he watched as the tall brunette at the counter turned. She met his eyes, her face lighting up.

    “Well I’ll be damned. If it isn’t Kylo Fucking Ren.”

    He dipped his head slightly at her. “Bazine.”

    She strode forward in her obnoxious stiletto boots, her hand brushing across his shoulder as she passed him. “Good seeing you again—welcome back.”

    He just shook his head. Bazine had been an acquaintance for quite a while, having seen her around on more than one occasion. They’d never really spoken more than casual conversation over some drinks in the lounges, but she was the flirty type. She used her looks and her seductive abilities to get close to her targets. It was easier that way.

    Pushing her from his mind, he stepped up to the counter and nodded at the woman behind it.

    One glance at her name tag revealed it to be Kaydel. She seemed inconspicuous enough. Friendly, cheerful—someone that wouldn’t draw the casual public’s eye. She gave him a polite smile, glancing at the fresh bruises and cuts across his face before she simply said, “I have you for two nights?”

    “Yes, but depending on business, it may be more.”

    “Of course, right away. Just one moment, please.” She tapped quickly at her computer, ever the professional.

    “Take your time,” Ben replied, waiting patiently.

    One of the unspoken rules was to always be courteous and respectful to the people that worked in the trade. They may not always be in the actual business of _killing_ people, but without them, the process wouldn’t be possible. They were essential to the function of this secret society, hidden in plain sight. For example, the Continental was open to all guests, not just those involved in disposing of targets. That had been one of the reasons for having the rule of no business taking place on the grounds.

    She looked up again a moment later, sliding a key across the counter. “You’ll be in room 301 on the third floor. Please enjoy your stay and don’t hesitate to call the front desk if you need anything.”

    “Thank you,” he murmured, sliding a gold coin across the counter. He turned to go, only to stop when he heard her speak again.

    “Of course. And as always, it is a pleasure to have you with us again, Mr. Ren.”

    He watched her for a moment, eventually turning away to make his way to the elevator.

    Once in the room, he paused and looked around, taking in the various potential points of entry. There was the large window on the far wall, overlooking the city. It was a perfect spot for someone to sit on another rooftop and snipe. He’d have to be cautious, just incase.

    The room itself was luxurious, every bit a place for someone to feel relaxed and safe, to take advantage of the various amenities the building offered. There was crystal and china, along with real wood furniture and what he assumed had to be silk sheets on the bed.

    Placing his suitcase onto it, he took a deep breath before settling on the edge.

    He’d have to plan, to get his strategy in place before he just went in shooting. He had to clear his head. Focus—he needed to focus. Don't let emotions take over, Kylo. Those will lead you into mistakes. Go in with an empty mind and all will go as planned.

    His chest felt empty, a blackened void where his heart was supposed to be. He palmed at it absently, only to be distracted by a slim shape in the inner pocket of his suit. Leaning back, he opened it and pulled out his phone. It was a sleek black thing, glossy screen—one of the later models. Rey had convinced him to get it when it had come out.

    Weighing it in his hand, he stared down at the little thing. Something so small and yet so important now. It held what was left of Rey inside it. If only he’d had more time with her. So many if onlys.

    Bringing it to life, he stared at the lockscreen for a moment, his mouth feeling dry, his breath stolen away.

    There she was, as beautiful as ever. Her nose was scrunched up in that adorable way of hers when she thought something was particularly funny or strange.

    And her eyes—her _eyes._

He could live a thousand years and never again come across eyes as captivating as hers.

    Frowning softly, he opened up his speed dial, only to hesitate with his finger hovering over the voicemail icon. He _knew_ this was a bad idea—what he was about to do. He knew—and still pressed the button.

     _"Hey baby, it's me—”_

He reclined slowly on the bed, his heart constricting painfully at the sound of her beautiful voice. It was muffled over electronics, but still as wonderful as it had always been. And it was one of the only pieces he had left of such a sound.

    Resting with his head against the pillows, he stared blankly up at the ceiling. If he tried hard enough, he could almost see her crawling above him, her hair cascading around her face to tickle his nose.

     _“Rey. Obviously. I mean, if you're calling someone else baby, then we really need to talk, because the only babies in your life are me and the one we are going to be trying for tonight—”_

    God, he remembered that night so clearly. How eager they’d been.

     _“Yes sir, Mr. Solo, I am fertile and an egg is in place and we are going to get so pregnant tonight that they'll write epics about how fertile I am and how potent your sperm are and I...am so fucking nervous—”_

    He had been, too. More terrified than he’d ever let her see, but the idea of becoming a father, of actively _trying_ for a family had been the most daunting thing he’d experienced.

     _“I know, I know, you've told me a hundred times not to be nervous and that stress won't help and that it will happen when it happens, but, god, Ben, I am so excited to have a family with you—”_

    He’d almost had it, too. He’d been so close to having the family he’d always wanted. To having someone that loved him, even knowing all of his secrets, and she _still_ wanted to be with him. She truly had been too pure for him, and he never deserved her. God, what he wouldn’t give to just hold her one more time.

     _“I love you, so, so much, and I just can't wait to begin this new adventure with you—”_

    He let out a heavy sigh, eyes squeezed shut, his fingers clawing into the spot on his chest where is heart was _supposed_ to be. It had been ripped out and placed into that casket with her, and he was destined to be a wandering void, a soul-shriven husk of a man.

     _“So don't be surprised if it's dark when you come home, because I will have the house looking so romantic that there is no way we don't have a stress-free baby making night—”_

    He found himself mouthing the words along with her, having played it enough times now to have the entire thing memorized.

     _“I love you. See you in a bit."_

Letting out a shaky sigh, he whispered into the empty air of the hotel room, “I love you, too.”

    And he played it again, covering his eyes with his arm as he heard the message repeat itself.

     _"Hey baby, it's me—”_

His cries this time were silent, the tears streaking down his cheeks quiet save for the soft pitter-pat of the droplets hitting the pillow beneath him.

     _“I love you. See you in a bit."_

    He replayed it again.

      

* * *

 

_Rey's lips were in a tight line as she sat on the back of Ben's couch, a lamp pulled up and over her shoulder to give her proper illumination as she stitched up his shoulder. It had been easier in the beginning, when he was just a patient, and easier still when he was just a guy she happened to be seeing.  But they'd been seeing each other for almost a whole year now and she had lost count of the number of times she'd stitched his skin closed or spread ointments on cuts or iced bruises. It was easier when she could feel a sense of detachment, when it was just more work. But now his house was too familiar to her and his skin too familiar and his smell and his smile and the way he made her heart flutter and…_

_She just exhaled loudly, biting down on her lip to keep herself from saying anything. She knew what he did, she knew what the risk was. She also knew that nothing she said would change things, so why say anything? She'd just grit her teeth, stitch him up, and go home and sob. No big deal._

_He opted to stay silent, able to feel her frustration rolling off of her in angry waves. He knew this was getting harder on her—on both of them. He’d never really imagined himself having a family, someone to come home to. Especially not when he’d gotten into the business. He never thought there would be anyone to miss him, to mourn him if he was gone._

_Now, though…_

_Things with Rey were getting pretty serious, and he really had to entertain the idea of making a decision. Of this being...more._

_Eventually, though, he couldn’t stand the silence between them. He needed to hear her say something. Anything, really._

_“You look really pretty today,” he murmured softly._

_"Thanks. I got lunch with Finn and Rose. We went to that little cafe up near the Met," she muttered in response, still focused on her task. "Almost done," she added quietly._

_She thought about it a lot. She thought about ignoring his texts and his calls, knowing that the moment she did he'd get the message and leave her be. But she didn't want that. Every single time she let that stupid thought enter her head, she immediately banished it away. She couldn't seem to detach. There was a weight on her chest and she knew it was there forever. She knew she'd stay forever. Damnit._

_“You know, you can always show me how to do this properly so that I don’t have to keep asking you to do it,” he replied, turning his head ever so slightly to get a glimpse of the top of her head._

_He’d stitched himself up on more than one occasion, though they were nowhere nearly as pretty as hers. He would have no issue doing it again if it helped her relax, if she didn’t have to look directly at the aftermath of what he did._

_"Don't move!" She cried immediately, squeezing him with her thighs in warning. "Do you want proper stitches or shitty ones? Stay still and just...I can keep doing them."_

_She hated it, but she liked feeling useful to him. She liked that she had a purpose so that he wouldn't suddenly get bored with her and throw her away. For all of her frustrations with him and her and all of that, she still wanted to be wanted by him._

_Sighing heavily, he stilled, but said, “Just tell me what you’re really thinking. Don’t keep anything from me—please. It’ll simmer and you’ll grow to resent me and I really don’t want that.”_

_"I'm fine," she said. One last bit and his stitches would be complete. "This isn't something I can't handle. It's fine."_

_"Rey."_

_"Kylo," she spat back, temper flaring as she tenderly cleaned the finished wound._

_"Rey, will you just fucking_ talk _to me?" he asked, growling lowly as he turned to face her. He was trying not to rise to the bait, but damn it, sometimes she was just so stubborn!_

_"There's nothing to talk about!" She insisted. She swung a leg over his head and pushed off the couch, immediately cleaning up the aftermath. She could almost recognize the caliber of the bullets she cleaned up, but not quite yet. How much more time until she'd know for sure?_

_He reached out after her, grabbing her hand to at least stop her from moving away. "There's obviously_ something _to talk about. You_ knew _what I did at our very first date. Why is that so different from now?"_

_She jerked her hand away, moving swiftly into his kitchen to dispose of the blood and bullets. "If you don't know what's different, then I don't know what to tell you."_

_She knew she was being stubborn, but this was never the way she wanted to say it!_

_She wasn't even sure if she should say it. Why, oh why, did she ever get lost in a pair of pretty eyes?_

_"You won't_ tell _me anything, Rey. That's the point!" he huffed, following along after her. He leaned against the counter by the sink, arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the nearest wall. "There are enough secrets in my life, and I don't want any between us."_

_"This either is or it isn't, Ben, I don't know what else to tell you. But if you don't know what's changed, then I'm not even sure why I come here," she said. She sighed then, turning on the sink to wash her hands. "Why do you always call me?"_

_“Because I like having you around,” he murmured quietly, like it was the most simple answer in the world. “I miss you when you’re gone, and any minute that I can’t talk to you. Because…” He looked to her then, a frown creasing his brows. “Because you mean more to me than anything else. Because I love you.”_

_Her breath caught in her throat to hear him finally saying the words she'd longed for for months now. But the tears that accompanied it and the pain constricting around her heart had her pushing past him. "Damnit, Ben."_

_"Damn it what, Rey?" he demanded as he followed after her again. "I do. I love you and I want to be with you, no matter what."_

_She shook her head, moving determinedly to his bedroom. "No, you don't."_

_"I don't?" he questioned. "Why do I not love you, Rey? Tell me why you think that."_

_He just wanted to grab her and make her at least_ look _at him, but he didn't want to frighten her. He knew he was intense._

_Finally in the dark safety of his bedroom, she sighed and turned around to face him. "I have been waiting for longer than I even know for you to say those words, because god, Ben, I love you so much. So much. I never imagined loving someone like I love you, but I have had to stuff it way, way down all this time because I didn't know what this was. You always seemed to keep me at both an arms length away or crushed to your chest. You either call me to fix you up or fuck you. On the rare occasions we do go out, I see what you're doing. I see the looks you give some people, I see that glance of recognition and the way you always try to make sure I don't see them or they don't see me, but I do. I can see it. And it terrifies me. It scares me to know that I love you and you can be gone tomorrow. I am frightened every time my phone goes off, I am worried it's your mom telling me that you just weren't fast enough or strong enough this time and that I'll never see you again. And then I wonder If you even want to, because, again, you only ever seem to want two things from me and I need more. I know I can't and I shouldn't ask for more, but I need it. And I don't think you're ready for that yet." She hugged herself, staring down at the ground. "You love your power more than me."_

_It was silent in the room for several long moments after that as he processed her words. She loved him, too. She loved him. Rey. The one woman he had ever loved._

_Carefully, he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around her. He didn’t try to make her drop her arms or anything—he just held her, breathing her in. "I would burn worlds for you, sweetheart, but I would also give all of it up for you," he whispered against her hair._

_"Then why haven't you yet?" She sniffled into his chest. She wrapped her arms around his torso, holding him as close as she could. He was so warm, his bare skin like a fire that lit into her very soul._

_“A few reasons,” he replied quietly, unwilling to break the silence around them. “One, because I‘ve been afraid you’ll leave me. That you’ll decide you’ve had enough and you want out. To live a normal life with someone that doesn’t do what I do. Secondly, is because it takes time to get out. I can’t just say ‘I quit’ and leave. It would be almost guaranteed that I, and possibly you, would become a target. I have to take this slowly—to tie up loose ends and make sure I don’t owe anyone anything. I’ll have to call in favors, and see what to do about the man I work with. It’s dangerous to try and get out. People try, but they almost never do. It sucks them back in somehow.”_

_She could feel more tears slipping out at this admission. She knew it wasn't as easy as simply walking away, she knew it wasn't a simple resignation letter and then a retirement party, but she hadn't thought of the total repercussions. If he got out, he'd be at even more of a risk._

_"I can't ask you to endanger yourself any more than you already do. I love you so much," she said, her throat tight. "If you can do this then I can do this and we'll just always be okay with it being like this. I'm sorry I said anything. I'm sorry I even thought it. I never want you in danger."_

_"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, holding her tighter still. "I'll get out, I promise. Just be patient with me, okay? I want to do everything right so we'll have nothing to worry about. Because I want you for more than just fixing me up or sex."_

_He pulled away just enough to look down at her, waiting until she met his eyes to speak. "I love you. I love you more than anything and anyone, and I don't want to put you in any danger. You are_ everything _to me, Rey. I know we've kind of just been fucking around in this relationship as far as titles go, but I've been exclusive with you, and I'm at least 98% certain you've been exclusive with me, too. I've seen the way you look at those doughnuts. Don't think I don't notice." He smiled as he kissed her forehead. "My point is that I want you as more than just something unofficial. I want you to be my girlfriend, my lover, my best friend, and once this is all over, I hope you'll consider becoming my wife."_

_She couldn't help but choke out a small laugh around her tears. "Ben Solo, did you just soft propose to me in the middle of promising to get out of being a hitman?"_

_"Only if you say yes," he smirked, remembering how he'd tried to get her to just say yes to have coffee with him. Maybe he it would work a second time._

_She pressed up to her tiptoes and kissed him, gentle and sweet. Cupping his cheek, she swept her thumb down his bristle and smiled softly. "Of course I say yes, you big doof. Where else am I ever going to find someone I love as much as you?"_

_"Plenty of Fish?" he chuckled as he pulled her hand up for inspection. "I'm going to get you a big rock. One that will weigh you down so much you can't possibly leave me. I wouldn't know how to function without you."_

_"Only if it's so big that it will blind any person who dares to so much as even look my way," she teased. Turning her hand so that she was holding his, her expression turned soft. "Ben, I love you more than anything, but I am serious when I said that I don't want you in any more danger than usual. I will wait a hundred years if it means you can get out owing as few favors as possible."_

_"I know. I'll do what I can to make sure none of this follows us around, Rey. I mean it. I love you so much, and I want our life to be without issue. I'll start speaking to Snoke soon and we'll go from there. Okay?" He asked, holding her eyes._

_"Okay," she replied. She felt like that weight that had been on her chest was curling around her like a fluffy blanket, knowing how much Ben loved her. "I just hope I prove to be worth it."_

_"You always have been."_


End file.
